


We Keep Coming Back to These Two Hearts

by Gimmemore



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Feel-good, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Marriage, Old Married Spirk Challenge, Post Star Trek: The Voyage Home, T'hy'la, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan Mind Melds, post fal-tor-pan, vulcan rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8525722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimmemore/pseuds/Gimmemore
Summary: After ST:TVH, Jim and Spock have found their way back to each other; once again binding themselves as telsu and as t'hy'la, forever intertwined in each other's mind and soul.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is all [Plaid's](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.tumblr.com) fault for making the plot bunnies in my head not just skip around, but stomp so hard they drowned out everything else. It may not be a new storyline, but I needed fluff and the plot bunny slayed so I wrote it.
> 
> Title is from a song by Cher and Peter Cetera called "After All." Yeah, I'm old and I love 80's music. :) This song is always in my Spirk inspiration playlist.
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

“Good grief, Jim!  Stop fidgetin’, calm down and breathe.  You’re already sweatin’ too much as is.”

Jim shrugged.  “I can’t help it, Bones.  I think I’m more nervous now than I was the last time.”

“Not surprisin’ with the way you two idiots manage to do things.  Never can take the easy way,” McCoy grumbled. 

Currently dressed in a black high-collar shirt and loose black pants, Jim glanced at himself in the mirror and inwardly groaned.  He definitely didn’t feel he looked as good as he did the first time.  A thickness was beginning to show in certain areas: in his midsection, in the slight widening throughout his hips and thighs and as a roundness in his face.  That was coupled with the wrinkles – visible indicators of his age and high stress life.  Further indignity was being allergic to Retinax V, which meant his eyesight was starting to go too.  He wasn’t even going to think about his hair.  At least technology had allowed him to permanently fix that issue. Turning slightly, he checked out his rear profile.  He smirked a bit.  At least certain assets still looked good.

Bones didn’t miss a beat, eyes rolling in exasperation.  “Quit lamentin' your age and admirin' your ass and put this on.  Time’s a wastin’.”  The good doctor was holding out a Vulcan robe in a patterned satin green, trimmed in honey gold.  It was a gift from Amanda and he was positive the fabric had been purposefully chosen to match his eyes.  He wouldn’t complain though.  He’d always thought he looked damn good in both green and gold.

As he slipped the robe on and tied the fastenings, Jim smiled warmly at his best friend, currently fulfilling his duties as best man once again.  They’d been through more than their fair share in the twenty years they’d known each other, but they’d managed to come out on the other side, scarred but whole.

And today was all about making things whole again.

Jim had felt the world tumbling and spinning out of control for the last six months, not knowing whether it would stop or continue until it shattered into a thousand pieces.  There had been moments when he doubted he would ever be here; that once was all he’d be lucky enough to have because twice was too rare a gift, near impossible.  But the moment had come and he couldn’t wait to grab it with both hands and never let go.

However, this time, things were a bit different.

Their first bonding was done in private, fully performed by Spock.  They travelled to Vulcan a few weeks later for an affirmation ceremony where T’Pau had checked the stability of the bond, recording it in the family lineage once confirmed.  That had been short and sweet.

But with Spock’s death, not only had Jim’s heart and soul been torn asunder, but so had his mind.  The wrenching and snapping of the bond had caused not only psychological pain but neurological damage as well.  No Vulcan healer knew exactly what to do with the human side of his broken Vulcan bond.  To complicate matters, it was no ordinary martial bond, but a rare t’hy’la bond; stronger, deeper and more intricately intertwined.

As a last-ditch effort to preserve his sanity, he’d gone to see T’Lar several times in those months on Vulcan while Spock recovered from his fal-tor-pan, mostly to soothe and heal the immediate physical and psychological pain of the broken bond.  Over the course of several mind melds, Jim was made aware of several things. 

The first was that his mind was particularly resilient and dynamic.  T’Lar had explained that because of the strength and depth of t’hy’la bonds, rarely did one survive the death of the other.  To have done so intrigued her.  T’Lar postulated this was due to his severe childhood trauma; it had shaped his mind to combat those things which might crush lesser minds – a true tempering via the flames of unspeakable tragedy.

Second, that he could heal over the tattered remains of the bond, altogether alleviating the current physical side effects – migraines, nausea, nightmares, chills – but to do so would create permanent scarring at his bonding center, leaving the odds of his ability to bond again at less than point zero-seven percent.  With Spock alive and breathing, Jim immediately and vehemently dismissed this as a choice.  Although the sundering of the bond was more painful than anything he’d ever experienced, he would not give up hope that he and Spock would find their way back to each other and bond once again.

And lastly, that regardless of whether he healed over the ruptured bond or not, a future bonding would not be able to be performed by any other than a master healer to ensure proper reconnection and stability.  It was all of this combined that had him on edge now.

He glanced at himself once more in the mirror and tugged at the high collar of the black undershirt.  The layers and the heat were almost too much and his older body not as forgiving as it once was.  But before he could protest further, a thunderous sound reverberated through the air.  Jim couldn’t help it, he inhaled sharply and flinched in surprise; his nervous energy making him twitchy, speeding up his heartrate and making him feel slightly nauseous.

Bones must’ve noticed his pallor starting to match the robe because he gently grabbed his shoulders and peered at him, compassion and concern radiating from his bright blue eyes.  “Jim, look at me.”

Jim did as he was told while taking a deep breath of the thin air.

“Look, I know what it’s cost you and him to get here again.  And it’s one thing to fall in love and get Vulcan hitched once.  And then it’s somethin’ else to have to earn it back through death and blood and pain and a goddamn ancient ritual messin' around with people’s souls.  But he’s out there.  And he’s waitin’…for _you._ Suspect he always will.”  Bones quirked a little smile.  “So get your love-sick fool self together and let’s get this done.  You ain’t the only one sufferin' in these damn robes.  I feel like my neck’s in a sling.”

Jim laughed heartily.  Bones hated the dress uniforms Starfleet made them wear, much less having to dress up Vulcan style for his best friends’ wedding – again.  But it had done exactly as Bones had intended and relieved some of the nervous tension.  Jim took another deep breath, steadied himself and turned, heading out the door of the small preparatory room they were in with McCoy following close behind.

Once he stepped outside through the larger double doors at the end of the hall, the blast of heat coupled with the thin air stole his breath.  Thank goodness it was a small walk to the koon-ut or he might pass out before he got there, even with the tri-ox compound Bones had already given him.

A thought hit Jim in his musings, causing him to grin and chuckle aloud.  McCoy, who now walked in step by his side, lifted an eyebrow in a perfect Vulcan imitation.  “You’re not gettin’ delirious on me, are ya?”

“No.  Just thinking that this’ll be the third time I’ve set foot on these grounds with you and Spock.  Just hoping the old adage, ‘third times a charm’ applies.  I’m getting too old to keep doing this.”

Bones snorted.  “Old my ass.  If this was three hundred years ago maybe, but you’ve got another eighty years comin' at least and if I was a bettin’ man, I’d wager Spock will make sure you stick around at least that long.”

Jim flashed a grin at Bones.  He knew his friend was right.  He was being a bit melodramatic, but who could blame him.  It’d been a rough six months.

As he came upon the sacred ground where he would once again pledge himself – body, mind and soul – to his t’hy’la, he was suddenly filled with an overwhelming, all-consuming sense of relief and elation.  And that’s when he sensed a different kind of energy starting to permeate his being; a combination of sacred ground, ancient rituals, the joining of countless energies over thousands of years, the delicate radiating hum of concentrated Vulcan telepathy and his own treasured memories of prior experiences.  The powerful and elegant beauty of it all awed him.

As he walked further into the koon-ut, his eyes briefly held Amanda’s as she stood in the matriarchal line behind T’Lar; her eyes gleaming with what he guessed were unshed tears of happiness.  She had always been his and Spock’s biggest champion and an untold source of quiet strength in the aftermath of Spock’s death, miraculous resurrection and everything else that followed in the wake of the fal-tor-pan.  He felt his lips curve upward slightly as a mischievous thought occurred to him.  _Oh,_ w _hat the hell, why not?  I am an illogical human after all._ Unabashedly grinning, Jim winked at her.  Vulcan disdain, if there was any present, was worth it.  Her lips twitched with barely held control and the twinkle in her eyes brightened.

But before he was openly chastised for his emotional outburst, he continued onward with Bones, traversing the remaining distance in short order, coming to stand at Spock’s left.  Just off to Jim’s left, Bones had stopped on the outer edge of his peripheral vision.

Spock was kneeling before T’Lar, head bowed and hands clasped, with his index fingers steepled.  To Spock’s right side stood Sarek, formidable and solemn as ever.  That, however, was something new this time around; an indication of how far Spock and Sarek’s relationship had progressed.

In truth, their first bonding had not been readily accepted by the ambassador.  After V’ger, he and Spock had reconciled quickly and bonded, but Sarek had remained aloof and distant.  Jim suspected it was because Spock had abruptly left Gol on the brink of completing Kolinahr; another glaring disappointment for Sarek, another perceived failure of Spock’s in his father’s eyes.  It had taken Spock’s death for Sarek to see that he had been wrong to doubt Spock’s life choices, that his logic had always been uncertain where Spock was concerned, that Spock had always been where he needed to be.  Jim was just pleased Spock was finally being wholly and openly supported by his father for all that he was, without reservations.

Since there was to be no challenge, no imminent pon farr or plak-tow driving the ceremony, Jim simply faced T’Lar and raised his right hand in the ta’al.  She returned the gesture, dipping her head ever so slightly in acknowledgment. 

Jim then kneeled, mirroring the same posture as his soon-to-be husband.  It was then T’Lar began speaking, raising her hands, spreading them wide.  The subtle hum of Vulcan energy increased into to pulsating buzz against his senses.

“What thee are about to see comes down from the time of the beginning without change.  This is the Vulcan heart.  This is the Vulcan soul.  This is our way.”

Behind him, the gong sounded again, a cue to stand and meet T’Lar’s intensely penetrating eyes.  Once they were upright, she continued in an even cadence.  “S’chn T’gai Spock and James Tiberius Kirk.  Thou have come to this place to declare each telsu and t’hy’la.  If thy intent is unchanged, I will bind thee in the ancient way.”  She looked to Spock first.  “S’chn T’gai Spock.  Does thou consent?”

Spock answered in his rich, warm baritone.  “My consent is given.”

T’Lar turned her piercing gaze to Jim. “James Tiberius Kirk.  Does thou consent?”

Jim couldn’t help the swallow he took to try and calm the flutter in his stomach.  Six months of anguish and pain was about to be over, the world righted once more.  He felt ready to burst with barely contained human emotions but managed to answer in a steady voice.  “My consent is given.”

Without hesitiation, T’Lar simultaneously reached for each of their meld points with long, nimble fingers and spoke the words Jim had heard fall from Spock’s lips many times.  “My mind to your mind…my thoughts to your thoughts.”

It was always a bit jarring to join with another’s mind and although Jim had done it on many occasions for both work and pleasure, it was still something unusual to his human psyche.  What was always endlessly fascinating was to see where they ended up in each other’s mind, what space was created in the joining.

In this ceremony, T’Lar’s mind would direct them to their bonding center but what they saw there was always unique to the bonded pair.  Jim and Spock’s space had always been more… _dynamic_ …than most, something even old Vulcan poets had taken notice of.

Once the meld settled, they materialized in a valley, mirroring their physical positions in the real world, surrounded on the north and east sides by imposing purple-grey and dusty-red mountains; a combination of the Terran and Vulcan landforms.  T’Lar lowered her hands, and gesturing in a sweeping motion, she insisted gently, “Rediscover thy space.  It is different than it once was, in ways both richer and poorer, but when made whole, will be no less than before.  I will begin the preparations and approach thee when accomplished.”

Regardless of the slight trepidation Jim felt, he smiled brightly at Spock, extending his hand.  “Well Mister Spock, care to join me in a little exploration?”

“Indeed.  I would be grateful to do so.”  Spock gently took his hand and they proceeded away from T’Lar, walking at the same leisurely pace they had often taken on their way home from Starfleet HQ.  Jim eyes swept the valley and although their mindspace looked similar to their first bonding, as predicted, there were noticeable changes.

There had been a small cottage in the center of the valley with a single sturdy, gnarled shade tree off to the left and fields of their various favorite wildflowers from numerous planets stretching endlessly behind it.  But the cottage was gone as were the flowers.  Grayish-black ash covered the land.  Through it, poked a sea of pale, green mist; the indicators of fresh, new life.  It reminded Jim of the great forest fires that happened in Yosemite and Yellowstone from time to time; although the fire came through and destroyed without prejudice, it also helped seed plants, encouraged growth and redefined the landscape.

He surmised this is what the death of Spock and the ripping of the bond had done; it was the fire that ravaged indiscriminately.  But his melds with T’Lar seemed to have healed the old landscape, utilized the fire to lay fertile ground and make way for something new.  Only one prior symbol remained, calling out like a beacon: the tree.  As they came closer, it was easy to see that it was black, charred and burnt.  But as he and Spock stopped before it, Jim couldn’t help but be astounded at all the bright green growth on the verge of breaking out from the inside.

Jim spoke softly.  “Well, Spock.  Damaged but not completely gone.”

Spock nodded.  “Life from death.  I am reminded of an old Terran story from Greek mythology, regarding a mythical bird called the Phoenix.”

Jim smiled wistfully at the tree.  “I recall that one.  The Phoenix dies, consumed in flames and yet always rises from the ashes to be reborn.”  Even if the story applied, Jim still keenly felt the loss of their haven weighing heavily upon his heart.

Abruptly, Spock faced Jim, tugging lightly on their still joined hands to pull Jim close.  This was another benefit Jim had always cherished from their melds; Spock’s freely given physical affections.  What Spock wouldn’t do in public, or might not do even in the privacy of their quarters, he felt wholly comfortable showing in the privacy of their joined minds.

Spock raised his unoccupied hand and gently brushed the backs of his knuckles across Jim’s cheek.  “Ashayam, do not let melancholy invade your thoughts.  There is nothing lost that cannot be regrown.”

“How did you –“

Spock crooked an eyebrow and gently squeezed Jim’s hand.  “We _are_ in a meld with our mental essences touching.”

Jim shook his head and grinned at his very soon-to-be husband, chuckling lightly.  “Goes to show how nervous I really am.”  Jim paused, turning his head briefly to regard the tree once more.  “I just can’t help but grieve the destruction of something so precious to me.”

Upon turning back, Jim found unwavering warm, chocolate-brown eyes captivating his as Spock gently declared, “We cannot be who we are without the sum of all the experiences that came before.  And I would have you no other way than all that you are in this moment, all that we are together.”

Jim gazed at his t’hy’la with barely controlled emotions.  “It’s also a painful reminder.  I lost you once.  I don’t think I could survive it a second time.”

Leaving their hands linked, Jim ran his other hand up Spock’s arm and across his shoulder to lightly cup the back of Spock’s neck, exerting a small amount of pressure in order to bring their foreheads together; their exhales delicately brushing across each other’s lips.

Jim pushed his affection and joy to the forefront of his thoughts, knowing Spock would be able to sense the emotions.  “I love you.”

“Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, t’hy’la.”  The words had rumbled from Spock’s chest, delivered in that gravelly tone that had made Jim weak in the knees on more occasions than he could count.

Jim gasped at a sudden sensation pricking his skin.  His skin tingled, like being in bright sunshine on a spring day; warm enough to make his muscles feel languid and feel the heat seep into his very bones.  Jim’s eyes shone, his smile beaming.  Spock had sent his own message through their connection.

At that moment, the ground beneath them shook and what appeared to be lightning bolts streaked just underneath the surface, causing random shadows and sparks of heat.  T’Lar materialized beside them.  “The preparations are complete.  It is time for thy joining.  Spock, place thy hand upon thy t’hy’la and complete the bond once more.”

Jim took a half step back, dropping his hand from Spock’s neck.  Rarely had Jim felt so many overwhelming emotions, their intensity causing him to tremble as Spock’s fingers settled upon his meld points.  The ancient words tumbled from Spock’s lips, the rightness of Jim’s world being restored.

“Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched.  I bind myself to thee, two and one, separate and together, until death renders naught what we have joined.  This is my vow.”  Spock paused ever so briefly.  “This is _my_ logic.”

Jim’s eyes widened considerably at the last part.  That was not a traditional vow.

Spock had spent much of his life torn between his two halves, fighting an internal battle that had almost driven him away from Jim forever.  But within those four small words was the admission of a discovered truth; a declaration that Spock was no longer a man torn between two worlds, but one finally whole and complete within himself.

As Jim repeated the words, completing the final step, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in all the known universes, his heart near bursting to have the chance to be with his t’hy’la once more.  “Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched.  I bind myself to thee, two and one, separate and together, until death renders naught what we have joined.  This is my vow.”

Instantaneously, Jim felt a barely contained energy surging through him to Spock and from Spock into him.  There was a sudden burst of color in front of his eyes, a rainbow of spots and starbursts as the bond was once again formed and solidified between them.  By the time he could focus again, he felt a bunch of little somethings landing on his head, face and arms.  Spock’s hand had dropped from his face and they both gazed at the tree beside them. 

It had grown, morphed into something else.  Instead of the great, gnarled shade tree it once had been, the previously barely confined new growth had burst forth, covered the blackened trunk and become a beautiful weeping bottlebrush in bloom.  It was one of the trees he and Spock admired often on their walks in San Francisco, drawn by its uniqueness.  T’Lar was right.  Their bond was the same and yet different, but no less than it had been.  Jim couldn’t help but smile at the beauty that lay before them.   He sensed Spock’s pleasure at the tree’s renewal drift across the bond and felt contentment at having Spock in his mind once more.

As they stood basking in each other’s presence and in the rebirth of their bond, T’Lar’s voice floated from behind them.  “What once was, has been remade.  I proclaim thee telsu and t’hy’la.  It is done.”

Spock and Jim pivoted, returning their attention to T’Lar.  She had a brightness about her, a warmth in her eyes and Jim knew what was being conveyed, what all his years spent discovering and cataloging the intricate nuances of Vulcan expressions told him; she was pleased to see them bonded.  Speaking again, she intoned, “I will now depart, releasing thee from the meld.  Thou will be able to linger for ten point two seconds before thy minds disengage completely.”  And with that, Jim felt her presence vanish.

Jim immediately faced Spock and quickly murmured, “Won’t find me wasting any more time.”  He took one hand, gripping Spock’s hip, pulling their bodies flush while the other ran up, fingers tightening in the short hairs at the back of his husband’s head.  He smashed their lips together in searing kiss, Spock openly returning his desire.  Those too few seconds had them heaving deep breaths, with fingertips digging firmly into flesh and lips reddening and swelling before the mental landscape faded, shimmering into nothingness.

It was jolting to find himself back at the koon-ut, standing in front of T’Lar, when all Jim wanted was for some privacy to finish what they had begun in their minds, consummating their bond all over again. 

T’Lar raised her hand in the ta’al.  “Peace and long life, S’chn T’gai Spock and James Tiberius Kirk, sons of the House of Sarek.”

Returning the gesture, they repeated in unison, “Live long and prosper.”

Jim pondered T’Lar’s blessing.  Peace?  In this moment, he indeed felt a sense of peace reach across their bond and settle within each other.  As for a long life?  After so many hard-fought battles and circumstances conquered to be together, not once but twice, he could only hope that the old Terran fairy tale ending applied:  _and they lived happily ever after._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Several bits of dialogue above are direct quotes from various episodes of Star Trek, mainly Amok Time and Journey to Babel.
> 
> Thanks again to Anifanatical who translated Spock Prime's words on his journal in ST:Beyond, "This is my logic". See the tumblr post [here](http://anifanatical.tumblr.com/post/151150596575/anifanatical-nam-tor-nash-ozhika-tnash-veh).
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek nor am I profiting from this in any way. I am merely playing with the characters for enjoyment's sake.


End file.
